Drifting
by jncar
Summary: “Being in love with Remus Lupin is nothing like what she expected...” Tonks struggles to make her relationship with Remus work, and befriends an outsider in the Order. An OotP era sequel to The Rookie.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes:_ Thank you to my beta reader, Logical Quirk, for her ever-helpful Brit-picking and editing. And thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep writing in this fic-verse.

Drifting

Chapter 1: Going Public

_June_

"Well, this is it," says Sirius, leading them through the door into a dim entry hall. A hunched and wrinkled house elf wearing a tattered rag as a loincloth scampers toward them out of the shadows.

"Who intrudes my Mistress's home?" it asks.

"Don't you recognize your Master?" he replies.

It hisses. "Master Sirius. My Mistress hoped you would rot in Azkaban."

"Good to see you, too, Kreacher."

The elf trots down the hall and stops in front of a large painting. It faces the picture, and begins to mutter in low tones.

Tonks steps further into the entry hall, Remus at her elbow. Albus Dumbledore steps past them, surveying the surroundings carefully, his wand raised. "Be prepared. There's no telling what we may encounter."

She nods, and grips her own wand in her hand.

Suddenly, a wild shriek of rage emanates from the painting in front of the elf. Tonks jumps in surprise and stumbles against a large, grotesque umbrella-stand. It topples, and its contents clatter to the ground. At the sound, the shrieking intensifies, and finally gives way to words. _"How dare my blood-traitor whelp seek refuge in these hallowed halls! How dare he seek to lay claim to this sacred place!"_

The diatribe continues as Sirius strides toward the painting, looks up at it, and then turns back to them. He spreads his arms wide in a gesture of welcome, and shouts, "Home sweet home!"

It's hours later when she and Remus finally sink down into the large red sofa that dominates the sitting room of her flat. "Merlin's bones, am I happy to be out of that hell-hole," she says.

He nods in agreement, but looks pensive. "What's on your mind?" she asks.

"I was just…" He hesitates. "Sirius is going to have a hard time living there. He had a very unhappy childhood, and I could see that place bringing it all back. And on top of that, I know that Azkaban affected him more than he lets on. This might be too much for him."

She sits listening quietly. In the week that she's known him, Sirius has remained an enigma to her. One day he'll be laughing and talking far too much, and the next he'll withdraw from them completely, silently brooding. It's hard to connect this strange specter of a man with the young, confident, witty friend that Remus has told her he once was.

"While you were upstairs with Dumbledore," Remus continues, "Sirius asked if I'd move in with him—to help him get the place in order is what he said. But I suspect that he just wants the company."

"Are you going to?"

"I think perhaps I should. He shouldn't be left alone in that place. And I owe him."

Remus doesn't need to say why he owes Sirius. She knows full well that he still blames himself for Pettigrew's escape, and all that has come of it. And she knows the fruitlessness of trying to convince him otherwise.

He hasn't really answered her question. He seems to be waiting to gauge her reaction. She wishes he would just say what's on his mind. Too many things remain unspoken in their relationship. Like the fact that another of his motives for moving might be the recent reduction in his income which is making it difficult for him to afford the rent on his flat. Or the fact the day before each full moon he bids her farewell, and she neither sees nor hears from him until one day after his transformation—in spite of the fact that his potion renders him perfectly harmless. And every time she tries to discuss these forbidden topics, he gets sullen and changes the subject as quickly as he can.

Being in love with Remus Lupin is nothing like what she expected. As wonderful as he is, there are so many times when she has no idea what is going through his head. And as much as she loves him, she doesn't dare tell him because she is still not sure that he feels the same way in return.

She wants to tell him that if he needs a cheaper place to live, she is ready and willing for him to move in with her—after all, he already stays over four or five nights every week. But she doesn't dare push him. And she doesn't even want to think about what might happen if he said "no." So instead, she tells him, "If that's how you feel, then you should do it. He really does need the company. That house is enough to drive anyone barmy, and he's already got a head-start. Maybe with you there he can stay a little more grounded."

His grateful smile reassures her that she made the right choice. He was clearly gearing up for another row, and is happy to have avoided it. He nods. "Good. I'll do it then. I think I'll start moving my things tomorrow, to get out of my flat as fast as I can. No sense in giving the landlord an excuse to charge me rent for July, is there?"

"Shall I help you?"

"No. I can manage. Besides, we don't want to set the neighbors gossiping, do we?"

She bites her bottom lip, and shakes her head.

He raises an eyebrow at her. "This doesn't upset you, does it? We'll still see just as much of each other—maybe even more."

She wants to tell him that it's not his move to Sirius's house that bothers her. She wants to shout that she doesn't care if the neighbors start gossiping. They're not going to be his neighbors much longer, are they? She's tired of sneaking around, hiding their relationship from the world. She's ready to make a public commitment to him, regardless of the consequences. She wants to say it all, and much more. But she doesn't, because those are more of the things that must remain unspoken. At least, for now.

* * *

_July_

The first meeting of the new Order of the Phoenix is fascinating for her. The members are an odd assortment of characters—a mix of respected community members and social misfits. Tonks is happy to see Professor McGonagall, and surprised to see Professor Snape. She never would have picked him out as a member of this sort of organization.

After the meeting comes to a close, she chats with Molly and Arthur Weasley about their impending relocation to Grimmauld Place. She glances across the room, and smiles at Kingsley engaging in an animated conversation with Sirius and Remus. She's sure they have a lot to say.

When Molly and Arthur excuse themselves, she turns to go join Remus and is surprised to find herself suddenly face to face with Professor Snape.

"It's good to see you again, Miss Tonks," he says.

"Professor Snape." She smiles. "I confess I'm somewhat surprised to see you here."

He sneers at her. "While I am not in the least surprised to see you. You always had the makings of good subversive. I am, however, surprised that you didn't expect me to see me here. I would have assumed that by now you'd have used your status as Auror to read my confidential file."

"I assure you, it's at the top of my to-do list for tomorrow."

He laughs, a short, low chuckle. She raises her eyebrows in surprise. This may well be the first time she has ever heard him laugh. But his amusement doesn't last long. "I'll give you a few other files to look up while you're at it," he says, and rattles off more than a dozen names, most of which she recognizes as persons acquitted after the first war.

"Thank you. I'll take a look at those files as soon as I can."

"Good." He gives a sharp nod. "I was pleased when I heard you'd successfully made it through the Auror training program. Some of your other teachers had their doubts—but I always knew you'd manage it, just like you managed to fight your way to an Outstanding on your Potions OWL and NEWT exams when you initially showed no natural aptitude whatsoever for Potion-brewing. If I had been scoring your exams, you might not have managed—but it was impressive, nonetheless."

She supposes that this must be Snape's bizarre way of extending her a compliment, so she nods warily. "Thank you, Professor."

"That honorific is no longer necessary, Nymphadora. You may now address me as Severus."

She bites her tongue to hold back laughter. Snape's idea of small-talk is as graceless and off-putting as his teaching style.

"Yes. Of course…Severus."

He nods curtly again. "Excellent. Should you ever have need of assistance with your investigations, do not hesitate to call on me."

He really is a strange man. "Thank you, Severus. I'll keep your offer in mind."

He nods yet again. She wonders if that is his universal expression of approval—and should she be happy to have his approval? "Very good," he says. "Now, I'll take my leave of you."

"Goodnight, Severus."

And with yet another nod, he leaves the kitchen. She shakes her head at the bizarre encounter. Although he had stopped openly persecuting her after her Outstanding on her OWL, he had still not seemed overly fond of her. Yet this conversation seemed almost to be the words of a teacher pleased with the success of his former student. Strange. Very strange.

Still pondering Snape's unexpected cordiality, she crosses the room to join Remus while trying carefully to avoid any overt signs of affection or preference. She is of the opinion that the members of the Order, of all people, will be accepting of their relationship—indeed several of them already know about their relationship. But Remus stubbornly continues to insist on keeping things quiet in public. There are moments when she wonders if he is somehow embarrassed of her. Yet he doesn't seem at all embarrassed when they are alone with Sirius, or Kingsley, or Dumbledore.

When she joins him, he gives her the same friendly smile that he would have given to anyone in the Order. She tries to smile just as casually back, even as she wonders why, after a relationship of nearly three months and a friendship stretching back six months before that, he is still such a mystery to her.

* * *

_August_

She comes home tired after yet another long day. The past month and a half has been physically and mentally exhausting. Between long shifts at work and guard duty for the Order, she barely has any time to herself. And the disaster with Harry and the Dementor a few weeks ago hasn't helped matters any. She hopes that now that the Hearing is over, and Harry's name cleared, that perhaps things will get easier. But only time will tell.

The hardest thing of all has been the strain on her relationship with Remus. His assurance that they would still see plenty of each other after his move to Grimmauld Place has proved woefully false. Between her work, their Order duties and the houseful of Weasleys they see very little of each other and have almost no private time together—the frustration of which is compounded by his continued insistence that they keep their relationship a secret from the children. She has had to resort to such tactics as using games of chess with Ron and Ginny just to be in the same room with him.

She tosses her work robe onto her sofa, and pours herself a glass of wine. What she needs right now is a quiet relaxing evening in a warm bath to take her mind off of her troubles. As she sips her wine she wonders, not for the first time, if Remus is deliberately avoiding her. If he is, she wishes that he would just chuck her and have done with it instead of dragging things out like this. She begins to feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She wipes them away fiercely with the back of her hand, and tries to convince herself that she's being ridiculous. She's just tired. Things will seem much better after a good night's sleep.

She finishes her wine, ready to go to her bath, when suddenly there is a knock on her door. No one ever comes over this late. When she opens the door, she is shocked to see Remus standing there.

He gives her no time to think. He comes into the flat and takes her in his arms, smothering her greeting with his lips. He slams the door behind them, and pushes her up against the wall, kissing her hungrily, his hands caressing her eagerly in all the right places, sending tremors of excitement through her body. Her head is spinning. It feels like there is nothing on earth but him—the roughness of stubble against her cheeks, the warmth of hands caressing her skin, the scent of whiskey and parchment filling her nostrils. As he dips his head to trail kisses down her neck and chest she moans, and manages to gasp, "Hello to you too."

A low, hoarse laugh rumbles in his throat, sounding almost like a growl. He raises his head to look into her eyes. "I've missed you," he says.

She smiles broadly, and giggles as much at her own ridiculous fears as at his unexpected behavior. "I've missed you, too."

He cups her face in his hand, and pulls her in for another kiss. This time it is tender, and passionate, and she can feel her heart swelling. When their lips finally part, she whispers, "I was about to get in the bath. Would you like to join me?"

His answering smile is full of warmth and desire. "That sounds absolutely perfect."

She takes him by the hand, and leads him back to the bath, with a large grin on her face. All of her exhaustion and frustration has completely vanished—replaced by something much nicer.

* * *

_September_

Snape is asking her about what sort of emergency healing training the Aurors are getting these days. She's learned that this sort of thing is his idea of casual chit-chat. Somehow, a fifteen minute chat with Snape has become the routine following every Order meeting. At first, she was annoyed that he had chosen to single her out for his attention, but after hearing a few harrowing reports of his meetings with Voldemort and the Death Eaters she decided not to let herself be bothered. If chatting with her helps him unwind after all he has to face each week, then she's more than willing to indulge him.

After she finishes filling him in on the latest in Auror emergency healing, he gives her a strange look. "Hmmmm…" he says.

She raises her eyebrows. "Hmm what?"

"Surely you don't wear these outlandish hair colors to work, do you?"

She takes a deep breath. She knows he doesn't mean to be rude—at least she thinks he doesn't mean to be rude—but somehow he always manages. "I sometimes wear colors like this," today she has lavender hair, "to the office. But I assure you that when I'm out in the field I'm perfectly capable of looking extremely non-descript."

He looks her up and down, as if analyzing every inch of her wardrobe and appearance. "Hmmm."

She rolls her eyes. "I did get top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training, you know."

"I don't doubt it. I was merely thinking that I don't believe I would like you non-descript. I much prefer you this way."

Tonks is so taken aback that all she can do is sit, blinking dumbly. He rises, and with his usual sharp nod, bids her goodnight.

Later, she and Remus curl up together on a sofa in the drawing room, listening to the WWN. It's a huge relief to be able to relax with him now that the children are back in school. And now Remus no longer has to invent fictional Order business in order to spend time with her.

She snuggles back into him as he wraps his arms around her. "Molly said something surprising to me today," he says.

"Oh? What's that?"

"She said that the two of us are welcome to come over for dinner whenever we like, and added that she's so happy that I've found such a lovely young woman to look after me. However did she get that idea?"

Tonks shakes her head. "You can't really expect me to still keep us a secret now that the kids have left, can you?"

He takes a deep breath, as if pondering the answer. "No, I don't suppose I can. I just didn't think you'd start gossiping about us to Molly."

"Don't be a condescending prat, Remus. You know I hate it when you do this."

"Sorry," he mutters.

"Good," she replies. "I wasn't gossiping about us. Molly and I were both early for the meeting, and she cornered me. She doesn't like that French girl Bill has been spending so much time with lately, and she was trying to set me up with him. So instead of coming up with some elaborate lie, I decided to tell her the truth—that I'm already seeing someone. And when she asked me if she knew the bloke, I decided to tell her the truth about that as well. A1right?"

"Alright. I'm sorry. I just like to keep my private life…private."

"I think I managed to pick up on that fact a while ago, now." She takes his hand in hers and starts to absently trace the length of his fingers with her own. "I respect your desire for privacy. But I think you should know that I like being able to talk about my relationships with my friends. And I've been lying to them—and to my parents—for nearly five months now. I'm fed up with it. I don't want to hide this anymore."

Remus nods, but says nothing. She looks up at him, steeling herself for an answer to a question that has been nagging at her for ages. "You're not…embarrassed of me…are you?"

He stiffens. "Embarrassed of you? Who in the world would be embarrassed of a strong, beautiful, intelligent, wonderful woman like you? It's ridiculous. I can't believe the thought even crossed your mind."

"Then how come you don't want to tell people about us? Why do you still want to avoid being seen together in public?"

He looks down at their intertwined hands. "I thought you understood…I'm sorry. This has really been upsetting you, hasn't it?"

"Yes," she says plainly. "It has."

He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses it. "I'm so sorry. I honestly thought you understood."

"Understood what?"

He takes a deep breath. "You know that anti-werewolf sentiment has been on the rise the past few months, ever since that attack in July. With my name in the paper so much over the past few years, I've gained a rather unpleasant sort of notoriety in the community. I didn't want to go public with our relationship because I was afraid that it might cause problems for you. I didn't want your friends or your colleagues, or especially your parents, to think less of you for choosing to be with…someone like me."

She catches her breath. How could he possibly think that people's opinions of their relationship would matter to her? "No, Remus. I didn't understand. And apparently neither did you."

"What didn't I understand?"

"That I don't want you to protect me like that, and it's arrogant of you to think that you need to. I don't care if people disapprove of us, and I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of our relationship. Other people's opinions are not going to make me change my mind about us."

"I'm sorry." He looks down at their hands again. An up-tempo melody begins to play on the WWN. "I didn't want to cause a strain in your relationship with your parents. And I especially didn't want to cause problems for you at work."

She tightens her lips and takes a deep breath through her nose. "My parents were dead set against my being an Auror, but that didn't stop me—nor did it ruin my relationship with them. Telling them about you will seem easy in comparison with that battle."

He nodded slowly in agreement. "And at work…?"

"The investigation against you has been officially closed, so having a relationship with you no longer violates any of our rules or regulations."

"But your colleagues might form a rather low opinion of you for it."

She is tired of his self-denigration. She grits her teeth. "I don't care what they think about us. If they want to be bigots, that's their prerogative. The only person whose opinion really matters to me is yours. And I'm sick of you acting like one of these mornings I'm going to wake up and realize I've made a colossal mistake and chuck you like yesterday's paper. It's absurd! After all we've been through together you should have more faith in me than that. There are times when you treat me like I'm still a child, you know. You can be a right git about it." She scowls at him.

He smiles bemusedly—not at all the reaction she was expecting—and her anger starts to rise.

"You're absolutely right," he says. "I am a git. A horrible, condescending git. Merlin knows why you put up with me. It must be for the sex."

Her anger dissolves in an instant and she bursts out laughing. He laughs along with her, and pulls her in for a tight hug. Once they quiet down, he kisses the top of her head and softly says, "You never cease to amaze me. Most of my girlfriends in the past never knew about my condition. And the few I dared to tell all dumped me straight away as soon as I told them. I thought that was how it was meant to be. That was just the way life worked for me, and I'd grown used to it."

He takes a deep breath. "And then you came along and turned my whole world upside down and topsy-turvy. I still haven't really got my feet back underneath me yet. I'm sorry for being so suspicious and overprotective. You're simply the most amazing thing to happen to me in a very long time, and I think…" he pauses, looking deep into her eyes. "I don't know quite how to handle myself with you sometimes, and I've been selfish and paranoid. I'll endeavor to get over it. Alright?"

Her heart is pounding and nervous prickles run down her spine. This is the closest to a declaration of love that she's had from him in the five months they've been together, and it thrills her to no end. "Alright," she says softly. "But you need to understand one thing: _you_ are the most amazing thing to happen to _me_ in a very long time, and I have no plans of getting rid of you."

His smile is full of wonder. He shakes his head. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"You probably don't. You just got lucky."

They laugh again, and when he pulls her in for a tender kiss she knows without a doubt that she is the lucky one.

* * *

_October_

There has been a subtle but tangible shift in their relationship.

He has started to sit next to her at Order meetings, instead of across the room. They've been to Diagon Alley together three times, and to Molly's house once for dinner.

And tonight after the meeting, instead of going off to chat with Kingsley or Dung or Bill while she has her usual conversation with Snape, he stays by her side and wraps an arm around her waist.

He leans his chin on her shoulder, and whispers into her ear. "You look amazing tonight. I love it when you wear your hair pink."

A little thrill runs through her body, and she grins. He's never been affectionate like this in public before. Something really is changing if he feels comfortable enough to act like this in front of the whole Order.

Her smile falters a little when she glimpses Snape across the room. He is glaring at them with a look of pure venom that she hasn't seen him use since the time Conner Wallace exploded a cauldron in his face. As soon as her eyes lock with his, he swirls on his heels and storms out of the kitchen.

She is dumbstruck. She can't fathom why he would be so angry with her.

"Is something wrong?" Remus asks.

She looks at him and smiles. "No. No, it's nothing."

Soon they are caught up in a rousing conversation with Bill that leads to a night of cards and Firewhiskey, but she can't completely banish Snape's expression from her mind.

Two days later, it is the full moon. As always, she spends the night alone, curled up around her pillow, trying not to think about what Remus is going through and failing utterly.

She sees him again two nights later at the next Order meeting. She shows up early to spend extra time with him and as always he acts as if nothing has happened and they haven't been apart.

They hold hands under the table at the meeting, and Tonks can't stop smiling. Until she catches sight of Snape. He doesn't look as angry as he did five nights ago, but he still has an ugly sneer on his face. She wonders what she has done to ruin their burgeoning friendship?

After the meeting breaks up, Snape once again storms out of the room without a word to anyone. Tonks wishes that he would just tell her why he's upset with her instead of ignoring her like this. But then, she can't expect a man like Snape to behave like a normal person would.

Twenty minutes later, most of the other Order members are still socializing, and Tonks finds herself in a disagreement with Hestia over the proper incantation for a charm to firm up mattresses, of all things. Tonks remembers her mother using one incantation, and Hestia remembers another. Finally Tonks declares that she is heading up to the library—she's certain that the Black matriarchs over the years would have acquired a few household charms books that they can consult. She says that she will be back in a few minutes and leaves Hestia to join another conversation.

She reaches the library and walks right to the shelves where she remembers seeing the sorts of books she is looking for. As she scans the shelf, she hears a noise behind her.

She turns to see Snape rising from a chair by the empty hearth.

"Wotcher, Severus!" She smiles. "I thought you'd left."

He frowns. "You were mistaken. I was merely trying to find a few minutes of peace to myself, when you disturbed me with those clunking boots of yours."

Now she frowns. "You don't have to be rude about it." She studies him carefully. He looks tense—his jaw is clenched. "Is something wrong? You've seemed out of sorts lately."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "You really have no idea, have you?"

"No idea about what?"

He shakes his head, and his lips curl into a mocking smile. Instead of answering her question, he says, "I didn't realize you were so…intimate…with the werewolf."

She rolls her eyes. "His name is Remus."

"I am aware of the creature's name. What I am not aware of is why a respectable Auror would degrade herself by associating with one of his kind."

Tonks is completely taken aback by the loathing in his voice. She's never encountered this kind of prejudice before, and she has no idea how to respond to it. "What the hell is your problem?" she blurts out.

His sneer intensifies. "My only problem is you interrupting my meditation with your prying prattle. I think it's time I spare myself the torture, and leave."

Stunned into silence by his total rejection of the rapport they've been building for months, she watches as he walks out of the room. She manages to pull herself together, and locates a household spell book.

Her mind is still in a muddle as she flips through the book. With a sudden jolt of insight, she realizes that Snape is acting almost _jealously._ She shakes her head. That can't be it—can it? She never would have thought of herself as Snape's type—and he certainly isn't hers. The whole idea is preposterous, and she can hardly believe she's giving it a second thought. He used to be her _teacher_, for Merlin's sake. Not to mention how completely unattractive he is. Not that he would be the first unattractive man to fancy her…

She shakes her head and decides that it's not worth thinking about. She finally finds the incantation she was looking for, and is gratified that although she was wrong about it, so was Hestia. She is still slightly troubled as she takes the book back down to the kitchen. She doesn't want to cause a rift in the unity of the Order—especially not over something as trite as this. But if Snape really is jealous, then there is nothing that she can do about it. He will just have to get over it on his own.

It doesn't take long for Tonks to forget about Snape's petty behavior toward her. She soon has far more important concerns.

After work one evening she arrives at Headquarters to find Remus pacing the kitchen.

As soon as he sees her, he says, "Thank Merlin you're here. I'm getting a little nutty in this place—I need to get out. Let's go somewhere."

He takes her by the arm and leads her back up the stairs. The next thing she knows he's whisking her away to park for a long walk, then to a café for dinner, then to a pub to listen to a live band. Finally they go back to her flat.

As they make love, she senses a new tension in him. A sort of desperate eagerness—he seems to be trying far too hard to please her. Later he falls asleep still clinging tightly to her, though he usually prefers to stretch his long limbs out over more than half the bed.

When his tension and forced good cheer are still obvious in the morning, she finally asks him what's wrong.

He looks away from her, and is silent for a long minute before he answers. "I got a letter from _Creature Aficionados Monthly _yesterday."

He doesn't need to say what the letter was about. She already knows.

When they first met, he was doing freelance work for more than half-a-dozen periodicals. But ever since his arrest last April they have gradually been dropping him, one by one. _Creature Aficionados_ was the last.

He looks back at her with a mocking smile on his face. "I am now officially and completely unemployed."

She takes his hand. Not knowing what to say, she resorts to platitudes. "It'll be all right. You'll find something new, I'm sure of it."

He takes a deep breath. "I intend to. But with politics being what they are, I highly doubt that I'll be able to find employment of any kind within the Wizarding community. I'll have to resort to finding a Muggle job. I've done it before, and I can do it again. It will just take a little ingenuity to find something that won't interfere with my Order duties."

"Your Order duties are nearly a full-time job as it is, and if you count babysitting Sirius then it's more than a full-time job. Maybe you should just take a break from working for a while."

"No!" he says quickly. "No. I can't do that. I won't depend on charity to get me by. I'll earn my own way, like I always have. Besides, I won't have to find full-time work to meet my needs. Part time would be enough, what with the favorable exchange rate from Pound to Galleon lately. I'll make it work, somehow."

Again, his optimism seems forced. But Tonks merely nods. "Of course you'll make it work. It's what you do."

This makes him happy—at least for a little while. But by the end of breakfast his mood is already slipping back into dispiritedness.

Tonks doesn't know what she can say to make him feel better, so instead of saying anything she pulls him in for a passionate, lingering kiss. When they finally pull apart, she looks into his eyes and says, "I believe in you."

He shakes his head slowly, a small smile dancing across his face. "You really are amazing, you know."

She smiles back. "The feeling is mutual."

She hopes that he will feel better soon, but she is beginning to understand that even when things aren't going well for him, he won't show it for long. So she tries hard over the next few days to go out of her way to make him feel special, and important.

At the end of the week he cheerily announces that he's found a job cleaning Muggle offices on the weekends, so he'll only have to work two days a week. She tries to act delighted, and joins Remus and Sirius in a toast to his new success, but inside she feels like crying.

What kind of world does she live in where an intelligent, talented, wonderful man like Remus is reduced to emptying rubbish bins and vacuuming carpets? Will he always be forced into these sorts of menial jobs simply because some closed-minded bigots in the government see only the malady—not the man?

Yet he doesn't complain—not for an instant. So neither does she.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note:_ As always, thanks go to my beta-reader, Logical Quirk. And thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 1.

Chapter 2: Getting Serious

_November_

She doesn't get off her shift until nearly one in the morning, and is looking forward to a long lie-in. On her way up to the room that she shares with Remus, Sirius steps out of the drawing room. "We need to talk," he insists. She only wants to sleep, but he seems quite adamant, so she finally relents and follows him back to the drawing room.

Once they are both seated, he gives her an intense look, and says, "I need to ask what your intentions are toward my friend."

She raises her eyebrows in surprise. "My what?"

"Your intentions. Are you serious about him? Is this a long-term thing for you? Or are you still pretty casual about things?"

Tonks has always been befuddled by Sirius. His dark moodiness confuses her, and his occasional bursts of temper verge on frightening. But this is different, and she doesn't know what to make of it. Her first impulse is to be offended, but she reminds herself that most of his social graces were eradicated by his time in prison.

She finds that it is usually best to be polite, but direct. "Sirius—you know I've been with him for more than six months, and you know that I risked my job to be with him in the first place and yet you still don't know if I'm serious about him?"

"So you are?"

She's too tired to deal with this right now. "Of course I am! I thought that was obvious to everyone by now."

"Everyone but him."

This takes her aback. "What? How can he…? I don't understand."

Sirius stares at her, nervously plucking at a loose thread on his robe. "He doesn't seem to think that he deserves you, you see. And he thinks that maybe you're going to start realizing that sometime soon."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She knows by now that Remus's confident exterior masks the insecurities that he feels inside, but she never thought that those insecurities went this deep. "Where is this coming from, Sirius?"

"Well, last night while you were gone for your shift I got him drunk and we had a little heart to heart."

Tonks isn't sure she wants to know where this is going.

Sirius continues to tug at the thread until a second thread comes loose. "See, what you need to understand is, my friend has a thing for women."

She raises her eyebrows. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Let me finish. He always loved women. Always. And it wasn't a pervy thing. Really. As far as I know, he's never been what I would call promiscuous. He's a one-woman man. But he also likes women friends. He really likes spending time with women. Talking to them, hanging around with them, and all that. We used to tease him because he seemed to have just as much fun gossiping with the girls as he did pulling pranks with us. But we stopped teasing when he was the first one of us to kiss a girl, and the first one to get a girlfriend. And eventually he was the first to lose his virginity. He just always loved women."

She is really too tired for Sirius's drunken ramblings. "Does this story of yours have a point?"

"Yes!" He looks indignant. "I'm getting there. Just…just listen."

She sighs. "I'm listening."

"Okay. Here's where I'm going. When he was younger, he always figured that eventually he'd find the right woman, and settle down. Start a family, and all that. But he gave up on that a long time ago. Ever since Marla."

"Marla?"

Sirius nods. "Marla. He started seeing her in our seventh year—not long after James started seeing Lily. And he really thought she was the one. When James and Lily got engaged, he figured that he would be next. But the stupid git had a problem. He'd never told her about being a werewolf. And somehow he always managed to hide it from her. For more than a year he hid it from her. Finally, the week of James's wedding, he bought a ring and told me that he was proposing. But that backed him into a corner. If they were going to get married, then he had to tell the truth. There couldn't be any more lying after that."

Tonks knows where this is going, but she still doesn't see what it had to do with how Remus felt about her. "So he told her, and she dumped him?"

"Yeah." Sirius says glumly. "And he was stupid enough to tell her the night before James's wedding. He was so messed up that he barely made it to the wedding on time, and as soon as the ceremony was over he vanished. I finally found him a few hours later behind some shrubs in the Potter's garden, passed out with a few empty bottles of Firewhiskey. I thought for a minute that he'd drunk himself to death, but fortunately he hadn't stayed conscious long enough." He shakes his head. "He moped and moaned about her for ages. More than five months later I found out that he was still carrying that damned engagement ring around in his pocket. So I marched him straight to a pawn shop to sell the thing, and then took him to a pub and helped him find a girl to get laid with."

Tonks sighs. "Again, I have to ask: why are you telling me all this? Are you saying he never got over her?"

"Oh, he got over her just fine. Never would have worked out anyway—they were all wrong for each other."

"Then what…"

He cuts her off. "Just let me finish!"

She clamps her mouth shut and glares at him.

"As I was saying," Sirius continues, "He got over Marla just fine. But he never really got over the idea that the werewolf thing would always get in the way of the kind of life that he wanted. He decided that he'd never be able to have a wife and family like the rest of us, so he completely gave up on it. But he loved women way too much to give up on _them_. Instead, he just shifted his mindset. He stopped letting himself get too close. He wouldn't let himself get serious about them. From what he told me, he's had dozens of girlfriends since Marla, but he never let them last. He always figured that no one would ever stick with him if they knew what he was, so he kept things casual. He never let himself get too attached to them, and he never let the girls get too attached to him. That way, when it ended, they could part ways with no hard feelings. And that's how he's been operating for years now."

She thinks that she's finally starting to understand, and she doesn't like it one bit. She bites her bottom lip nervously. "So are you trying to say that he's…he's not very serious about me?" She holds her breath, waiting for the answer.

"No! He's very serious about you." She exhales, and relief washes over her.

Sirius continues. "You've kind of thrown him for a loop. He was attracted to you from the very first day he met you, but from what he told me he never expected that you'd ever have an actual relationship with him. He figured you were just pumping him for information, and eventually you'd give up and move on. So he decided he'd just enjoy the company of lovely young woman while he still could, and when the Ministry finally gave up on him you'd stop seeing him. But then, all of a sudden, things changed. Before he knew it he was in a full-blown relationship with you, and his feelings had gotten way more serious than he'd ever intended. And now, apparently, you've officially surpassed the length of his longest post-Marla relationship by nearly two months."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because, right now, Remus is in a muddle. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to fall. I think that everyday that he wakes up and you're still there, he's surprised. He's convinced himself that eventually you'll give up on him, just like every other woman he's ever been with has."

"That's horrible!"

Sirius shrugs. "That's Remus. The hard part for him is that he knows that if you do leave him, this time his heart really will get broken. And he's scared to death. Just talking about you chucking him nearly had him vomiting—and he usually holds his liquor better than I do! That's why I need to know what your intentions toward him are. If you're really just being casual with him, you need to tell him now. The longer this goes on, the harder it will be for him."

"And if I'm really serious about him, should I tell him that as well?"

"I'm not sure. That might scare him away. He's kind of jumpy right now."

She lets out a huff. "So if I don't tell him how I feel, he'll be sick with worry, and if I do tell him how I feel he'll be scared off? Then what the bloody hell am I supposed to do?"

Sirius shrugs. "I don't know. I'm no relationship expert. I haven't been with a woman in fifteen years."

She shakes her head. "You can be very infuriating sometimes, you know."

"Sorry." He looks like he genuinely means it. "Maybe…maybe you can find a way to show him how you feel, without telling him?"

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Don't know." He shrugs again. "But he needs…something. Some kind of reassurance. You're his girlfriend—you figure it out."

She falls silent, pondering what Sirius has told her.

He finally yanks the loose thread from his robe with a quick snap. "That's all I wanted to say." He stands up. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replies, her sleep-addled brain swirling in confusion. After a few minutes, she realizes that her mind isn't working well enough to process the new information tonight. She decides to go to bed, and think about it tomorrow.

* * *

_December_

The first week of the month, they spend an afternoon at Diagon Alley, finishing their Christmas shopping. Remus impresses her with his ability to pick out gifts that are very affordable, but also thoughtful and perfectly suited for the recipient.

Last week she tried to suggest that they keep their gifts for each other simple and inexpensive, but before she could finish her sentence he had interrupted her with the stubborn and determined statement that he was perfectly capable of managing his budget well enough to buy her a nice Christmas gift, and a declaration that he didn't want to hear anymore of her "simple gift" nonsense.

The conversation did little more than leave her with a lingering feeling of guilt that he will be spending far too much of his meager income on her, and a complete inability to think of a gift to buy for him.

After their afternoon of shopping, they stop in at the Leaky Cauldron for a simple dinner. As they are finishing their meal, she takes a deep breath, and prepares to put her plan into action.

A few days after her strange late-night conversation with Sirius, inspiration struck for a way to show Remus just how much he means to her. And now, all the pieces of her plan are in place.

"My parents have been hassling me to introduce you to them," she says, as casually as possible. "They were wondering if I could bring you over for dinner sometime next week?"

He freezes, his beer halfway to his mouth. "I…didn't realize you'd told your parents about us."

She smiles. "Of course I have. Nearly a month ago. And they know we've been together for more than six months now, so naturally they want to meet you. They need to decide if you're worthy of me." She keeps her tone light, and takes a sip of her own beer to try to hide her own nervousness.

He sets his beer down. "Yes. Yes, of course you've told them. I would be delighted to go to your parents' house for dinner. I think Wednesday or Thursday would work best for me."

He only looks slightly unsettled, and he seems willing enough. So far so good. "Brilliant. I think Thursday is best for me. I'll let them know, shall I?"

He nods. "Yes. Certainly. I'll plan for Thursday then."

"Good. I'll make them promise not to hex you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are they prone to that sort of behavior when you bring your boyfriends over?"

His humor is returning. That's a good sign. "Dunno. You're the first boyfriend I've brought over since I was eighteen, and I'd like to think that my taste has improved significantly since then."

"Oh…but you didn't deny the casting of hexes. It makes me wonder what sort of bloke you saw fit to bring home back then."

She grins. "He was a musician. With a mohawk. He was starting a band—wanted to be the next _Weird Sisters_. Too bad he had no talent. He was still just a barman in a pub in Manchester last I heard." She pauses for dramatic effect. "And yes—there was a hex cast. But just a little one."

He chuckles. "Who did the casting?"

"After you meet my parents, you might be able to guess."

His familiar mischievous grin is back. "Sounds like a fun game."

"I certainly hope so."

Before long the subject changes, and they don't discuss the new plan again for the rest of the night.

The next day, after Tonks finishes the drink and snack Remus has waiting for her when she gets home from her late shift, he brings it up again.

"Just out of curiosity, have you told your parents about my condition?" His tone is casual, but she can see the tension in his shoulders and his jaw. She was expecting this, and is ready with her carefully planned answer.

"No. I didn't have to. They remembered your name from the _Prophet. _They both read that rag obsessively every morning after breakfast."

She watches him carefully to gauge his reaction, and notices his jaw become even more visibly tense. "Oh," he says. After a pause, he continues. "And…how did they take that news that you're involved with an infamous werewolf?"

Tonks rolls her eyes, and shakes her head. "I don't think you qualify as infamous quite yet."

His lips curve in a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Notorious, then. And don't evade the question. How did they react."

She takes a deep breath, and answers. "My dad turned red and started spluttering, and my mum launched into an ongoing campaign to logically dissuade me from my ill-advised choice in romantic partners—her words, not mine."

He blinks his eyes rapidly in surprise, and takes a deep breath. "Perhaps this dinner isn't such a good idea after all."

"Nonsense. They're much calmer about it now that they've had a month to get used to the idea. And in the end it doesn't really matter what they think, does it? My opinion is the only one that really counts." She smiles at him and snuggles into his side as they sit on the sofa.

He nods, but doesn't seem entirely convinced.

"Really, Remus. It will be fine. They might not love you at first sight, but you'll grow on them. That's what you do."

He squeezes her with the arm draped over her shoulders, and smiles back at her. "So that's what happened with you, is it?"

"Yes. After hanging around with you for seven months you managed to worm your way into my brain and make me crazy enough to fancy you."

His smile broadens. "And luckily for me, even after all these months you still haven't gotten sick of me."

"I don't think I'll ever get sick of you," she says quite honestly, and proceeds to do all sorts of things to show him just how not sick of him she really is.

The dinner with her parents goes even better than she expects. Her parents are both a little stiff, but before long Remus's natural charm helps them both to relax, at least a little. Her father comes up with a new suspicious or ominously probing question to ask every ten minutes, but Tonks manages to deflect most of them, and by the end of the evening Remus is even able to elicit some smiles from her mother—no small feat.

As they stroll away from her parent's house after bidding their farewells, Tonks looks up at Remus with a grin on her face. "So—what do you think?"

He is silent for a moment, and then takes a deep breath before speaking. "I think…that your mother would like me if I wasn't involved with her daughter. But your father hates me."

Tonks laughs. His assessment matches hers perfectly. "Don't worry about it. My father would hate anyone I brought home—no one is good enough for his little Dora."

"Perhaps, but I think he has a special level of venom in his heart for the werewolf."

She shrugs. "He'll get over it. Eventually. Even if it takes years." Her tone is nonchalant, but she feels anything but relaxed inside. What they say over the next few minutes will be crucial in directing their future together. She bites her bottom lip, waiting for his response.

"Years?" He asks in a neutral tone.

"Yes. My father is a very stubborn man," she says, knowing full well that wasn't what he was asking.

Remus isn't ready to let it drop quite yet. "So you're sure that you want to be with a man that your parents might learn to tolerate after several years instead of finding one that they'd like right from the start?"

She huffs and nudges him in the ribs with her elbow. "Don't be ridiculous, Remus. I don't really care what my parents think of you. You're the one that I want, and you're the one that I'll have. Besides—they can't complain too much or they'll be hypocrites, and they hate hypocrites. They've simply got to accept that I'm following in my mother's footsteps. My mum decided to spend her life with someone that her parents hated, so it really shouldn't surprise them that I've done the same."

She takes a deep breath, and stares resolutely forward as they keep walking. She finally said it; she's said the words that she has been so carefully planning for weeks. It's been a plot worthy of a Slytherin. Now she has only to wait and see what comes of it.

Remus is silent for a moment, and she hears nothing but the sound of their footfalls on the pavement and the beating of her own heart.

Suddenly, he stops, pulling her to a halt with him, and looking her in the face.

"You really mean that, don't you?" he says. She's never seen him look so vulnerable.

"Yes," she says softly. "Every word of it."

They stand in silence, staring at each other. It feels like minutes have gone by, and his gaze is burning into her. He looks so hopeful, and yet anxious, all at the same time.

"I love you."

Her breath catches in her throat. She can hardly believe what she's heard. She hoped her plan would get her something—but this?

The longer her silence stretches, the more worried he looks. She grins, and she reaches up to lay her palms on his cheeks. "I love you, too."

He lets out a breath that he must have been holding, and laughs. "Good. For a moment there I thought I'd made a complete fool of myself."

She laughs back. "Not this time. I love you, Remus Lupin. I love you." Now that the words have left her mouth, she doesn't want to stop saying them until the whole world knows.

But he stops her mouth by pulling her in for a deep, lingering kiss. When the kiss ends he continues to hold her tight, and whispers into her ear, "I love you."

Tonks can't help but feel that after tonight, nothing could ever make her unhappy again.

Despite her joy at entering into a new stage in her relationship, the horror of the attack on Arthur a few weeks later hits her hard. Even after Podmore's arrest, the true danger of what she is involved in hadn't sunk in. But seeing what that serpent did to Arthur makes her see just how tenuous life can really be.

The turmoil following the attack prevents her from seeing much of Remus over the holidays, but they do share one more dinner with her parents. They are slightly more cordial, and she can tell that it gives Remus a lot of hope to see that they really are willing to give him a chance.

On Christmas day she and Remus don't see each other until late in the evening. They get together at her flat to exchange their gifts. She is delighted and stunned by the opal pendant he gives her, and even after he admits to enhancing the colors with a charm she feels more than a little guilty that he would spend so much of his limited funds on her. She bites her tongue and tries to act as graciously as possible, all the while wondering what sacrifices he's had to make to buy it for her.

However, she doesn't feel at all guilty for spending a large sum on a fine new winter cloak, scarf and gloves for him, and he seems very happy to receive them. As they snuggle in front of her fire sipping mulled wine she can't help but wonder if this will be the first of many Christmases together.

Two days later, after an Order meeting, she moves quickly to catch Snape before he leaves. She asks if she can have a private word with him, and he grudgingly agrees.

They go up to the drawing room, and she closes the door behind them. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small jar of grey powder embellished with a bright red ribbon.

"Happy Christmas," she says, holding out the jar to him.

Snape stares at the jar, and then back up at her, his eyes darting warily.

"I'm sorry it's late, but I never saw you the week before Christmas, so it had to wait. It's bicorn horn."

"I can see that," says Snape, testily. "What I don't see is why you're giving it to me."

"Earlier this month I overheard you complaining to Mad-Eye that you were nearly out, and that your usual supplier had raised his price outrageously. But, I happen to have a friend in the ingredients business who I knew could get some for me for a discount, and since I was having a ridiculously hard time choosing a present for you I decided that this would have to do. You're impossible to shop for, you know."

He hesitantly reaches out to take the jar. He stares at it in his hand for a moment before pocketing it. "Thank you. But why did you want to buy me a present at all?"

"Because you're my friend," she says. She hopes this gesture will finally erase whatever perceived slight or jealousy it was that turned him against her. She knows that she wouldn't like it if anyone in the Order seemed left out or isolated, but she thinks that it is particularly bad that it is happening to Snape. His work for the Order is by far the most difficult and dangerous of anyone's, yet no one but Dumbledore seems at all grateful for the risk he puts himself in. He needs friends right now, and she is not going to give up on him, no matter how grumpy he's been with her lately.

"I am?" he asks.

"You are if you want to be."

He continues to eye her warily. "I don't make a very good friend."

She smiles. "That's okay. I'm an excellent friend, so I can make up for any of your deficiencies."

He finally smiles, and chuckles—a low, throaty sound. "Very well, then. And the first of my many deficiencies is that I have nothing to give you in return."

"Don't worry about it." She walks over to the sideboard and picks up a decanter of wine. "Just have a drink with me. That will be enough."

He raises his eyebrows and walks toward her. "That's really all you ask?"

"Well—that, and it might be nice if you start talking to me again."

He chuckles again. "Consider it done."

"Good." She pours two glasses, and hands him one. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," he replies.

* * *

_January_

She adjusts her outfit for the thirtieth time that evening, and shifts her hair from pink to blonde. She knows that she shouldn't be this nervous—Remus's mother can't possibly be as bad as her own parents—but she can't help herself. She really doesn't know much about Remus's mum. Just that she is a Muggle, she lives in the country, she is some sort of artist, and her son conscientiously visits her twice a month. Now that Tonks is finally on the verge of meeting her, she feels woefully unprepared.

Remus walks into the bedroom. "Are you ready to go?"

"I think so." She straightens her blouse one more time.

He looks her over. "You look lovely, but what happened to the pink?"

She shakes her head. "I know you like it—but I'm worried it'll leave a bad impression."

He lets out a short laugh. "You should wear the pink. It would be the perfect choice."

"Why?"

"Just trust me. Wear the pink."

She nods warily, and morphs her hair back to pink.

Cleo Lupin is still lovely, in spite of her white hair and the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. She greets Tonks with a warm hug. The garden of her small cottage is decorated with a large collection of wind chimes of all shapes and sizes, and their music constantly fills the air.

As Tonks walks inside, she sees that the walls are covered with art—sketches and paintings make the home one vast collage. "Are these all yours?"

Mrs. Lupin nods as she lights a cigarette. "Mostly, yes. The product of a restless mind."

Most of the art features magical creatures in natural settings—unicorns, dragons, bowtruckles, hippogriffs and more. "I have an advantage over my fellow fantasy artists," she says. "I'm the only one who's ever actually _seen_ the creatures that I draw. One of the advantages of marrying a wizard."

They have a nice simple dinner, and Mrs. Lupin proves to be good company, if a bit reticent about delving into personal matters—like mother like son. She points out a few portraits of Remus when he was a boy, and inevitably he is drawn with a rabbit.

When Tonks asks why, Mrs. Lupin laughs. "He hasn't told you yet? Remus has had pet bunnies since he was a boy. He adores them. Lately, I've been keeping them for him, since they're not allowed in his flat."

Tonks turns to raise her eyebrows at him.

He chuckles. "So now you know my furry little secret."

"You'll have to introduce these bunnies of yours to me before we leave."

"I'd be delighted to."

After dinner Mrs. Lupin leads them into a sitting room that looks out on the back garden. Tonks catches her breath and smiles in delight when she sees the large watercolor painting that dominates one wall of the small room. It is a delicate fairy maiden dancing on a dew-covered flower. Her hair is vivid pink. Now she knows why Remus insisted on her pink hair.

"Do you like her?" asks Mrs. Lupin, puffing on another cigarette.

Tonks nods. "Very much."

Mrs. Lupin smiles. "I'm glad. She and I are old friends. She was my first large painting that I was really happy with, and I still smile every time I see her. Remus tells me that real fairies aren't nearly as intelligent or good-natured as I made her, but I don't care. Sometimes the fantasy is nicer than the reality."

After another half an hour of chatting, Mrs. Lupin gives Remus a pointed look and tells him that perhaps it's time for him to go visit his bunnies now.

He raises an eyebrow at her. "So does that mean that now is the time where you're going to start telling her all sorts of embarrassing stories about me and you don't want me in the room to stop you?"

"Something like that," she says. "Now run along. I'll send Nymphadora along after you shortly."

Remus smiles indulgently as he stands, and gives his mother a kiss on the head as he leaves.

Once he is gone, Tonks looks at Mrs. Lupin expectantly, but the older woman sits in silence for a minute, taking slow drags on her cigarette. Finally, she speaks. "Are you in love with my son?"

Based on their conversation over dinner, Tonks never expected this kind of frankness and it catches her by surprise. She takes a deep breath to collect herself, and replies, "Yes. Yes, I am."

Mrs. Lupin smiles. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. He's in love with you, too. He never told me so, but I can see it in his eyes when he talks about you. It reminds me of the way I used to look back when I first met his father. I haven't seen him this happy in years. But…I think I need to ask you to be…patient with him."

"What do you mean?"

Mrs. Lupin looks down and taps her cigarette over the ashtray. "He's been drifting for so many years—since the war ended. Did you know his father died in the war?"

Tonks shakes her head. "No."

"He joined Dumbledore's group when Remus was in his fifth year at school. He said that my being a Muggle made us targets, and he wanted to do something to protect us. Instead, he just got himself killed. It was two months before Remus finished his last year at school. He came home for a week to be with me for the funeral. I was a wreck. It was like I was living through a nightmare. And Remus was all I had left. But he was too much like his father—too impetuous, and daring. After the funeral he went straight to Dumbledore and demanded to be allowed to take his father's place. He never even stopped to think about me, and what it might do to me if I lost them both." She stops to take another drag, and she is looking out the window at Remus. She seems miles away.

"I told Dumbledore not to let him join. I begged him. But he didn't listen to me. He needed every soldier he could get. So Remus went to war. And one by one he dragged his friends in after him. It destroyed them all. And it very nearly destroyed him in the process. He's been drifting ever since. From job to job, flat to flat, girlfriend to girlfriend. He never let himself settle down long enough to get close to anyone new after the war—not friends, not employers, not girlfriends. He's just gone wherever the tide takes him. Until now." She turns to look Tonks straight in the eyes.

"Over the past few months, I can tell that he's finally found an anchor to hold him steady. But he hasn't completely rid himself of the impulse to keep on drifting. It's still in him; I can still see it. If you aren't steady, and patient, one of these days the tides of life will tug a little too hard, and he'll let go of you and drift off in some new direction. It would break his heart—but he wouldn't stop it. He doesn't know how. Not yet. It's going to take time for him to change enough to stick with you when times are tough. Do you think that you can be patient enough to wait it out? Do you love him enough to carry him through the hard times?"

Mrs. Lupin seems almost to be pleading with her. Tonks wonders if Remus realizes just how lonely and sad his mother really is. Somehow, she thinks that he doesn't. Tonks doesn't like to think of Remus in this way, but she can't deny the truth behind what his mother has said. She's seen it in him herself—she simply never expected to be confronted with it so directly. But in spite of Remus's flaws, Tonks knows that there is only one answer to his mother's questions. "Yes. I do. I will stand by him no matter what."

Mrs. Lupin smiles again, and tears glisten in her eyes. She fumbles to light another cigarette. After taking a long drag, she sighs and looks at Tonks again. "I'm so glad we had this chance to talk. You'll come visit again soon, won't you?"

Tonks nods, smiling back at the lonely woman in front of her. "Of course I will."

"Good. Good. Now you should run along and go meet those bunnies."

Tonks finds Remus sitting on the floor of the garden shed under a dim electric light, with three bunnies hopping around him. He smiles up her. "She didn't tell you anything _too_ mortifying, did she?"

Tonks shakes her head, wondering what Remus would think of the conversation she'd just had. "Not at all." She sits down beside him, and reaches out to pet the nearest bunny. "So what's this one's name?"

"This one is Molly."

Tonks sniggers. Remus huffs and wags his finger at her. "Now, you won't go telling Molly Weasley—will you? Because I named this rabbit long before I became friends with the Weasley family."

Tonks shakes her head. "I won't tell. What are the other two named?"

"That one is Brian, and that little scamp is Mr. Fluffy."

Tonks raises an eyebrow. "Mr. Fluffy? That's a rather sissy name, isn't it?"

"Not at all. Fluffy is a sissy name, but _Mr. _Fluffy has panache."

Tonks laughs. "So he's a bunny with panache?"

"Absolutely. Just look at him!"

On cue, Mr. Fluffy hops up to them to sniff at Remus's fingers. Tonks leans against his shoulder, and reaches out to pet the bunny on the head.

"Why don't you bring one or two of them to stay at Grimmauld Place? It would certainly cheer the place up."

"I can't. Sirius is allergic."

"No!"

"Yes. We discovered that in a most unfortunate fashion when he came to visit one summer."

"Well…aren't there potions for that sort of thing?"

"Yes, but Sirius insists that he's not taking a foul-tasting potion every day just so I can bring a smelly rodent into the house. Besides, I'm afraid he'd get drunk and _accidentally_ feed it to Buckbeak."

"Oh, dear. That is a real danger, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is."

Tonks pauses to think for a moment before speaking again. "We could keep one in my flat, if you like."

"Really?"

She nods. "Yes. I haven't had a pet since my cat died when I was sixteen. It would be nice to have one again. It would be nice to have one together."

He looks down into her eyes with a mysterious smile on his face. He reaches his arm around her back and twines his fingers through hers to grasp her hand tightly. "It would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Soon after, they say goodnight to Mrs. Lupin and return to Tonks's flat.

One week later, Mr. Fluffy joins them.

They lay in the dark, snuggled in bed, listening to the sounds of Mr. Fluffy scratching around his new cage in Tonks's living room.

"Do you ever think about the future?" Remus asks her suddenly.

"Sometimes."

"I never used to think about the future. Never. At least, never more than a month or two ahead. But lately, I have been. I've been wondering what things might be like in a few years, once the war is over."

"And what do you think they'll be like then?"

"I'm not completely sure. There are so many possibilities. But among all the possibilities, there is one thing I'm sure about."

"What?"

"That I can't imagine a future without you in it."

She smiles. "I feel the same way about you."

He smiles back at her. "Good. I'm glad the feeling is mutual."

"Very mutual."

They kiss, and as their arms circle around one another a future together seems very possible indeed.

_Author's Note:_ If anyone is interested in reading more about Cleo Lupin, I recently wrote a short ficlet from her point of view. It is called "Smoke and Wind," and you can find it on my Author Page.

Thanks for reading! I love to hear back from my readers, so please take the time to review. I'll try to have chapter 3 up soon. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Once again, thanks goes to my beta-reader Logical Quirk. And thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. WARNING: this chapter is quite long, so you should make sure you have at least a half-an-hour to read before sitting down. This is the final installment of "Drifting," but I am hoping to have a HBP era sequel ready by sometime in June, so stay tuned! **ETA:** I've made a few small additions and changes based on some suggestions from MrsTater, so thanks go out to her.

Chapter 3: The Tides of Life

_February_

She throws her cloak at the coat-tree, and it lands in a crumpled heap on the floor. She ignores it and turns her attention to angrily kicking off her boots.

Remus quietly slips off his own cloak, retrieves hers from the floor, and carefully hangs them both. She scowls. Right now his fastidiousness does nothing but bother her.

"For what it's worth," he says gently, "I happen think it's a very good thing that you're on friendly terms with Severus again. Sirius is just letting his old grudges impair his judgment."

She glares at him. "It would have been nice if you'd mentioned that earlier, instead of letting Sirius rail on at me like that—insufferable man. I am NOT going to base my choice of friends on whether or not they get along with my cousin, and if he thinks that he can bully me into it he is severely mistaken!"

"I tried to bring it up, but the two of you wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways." A teasing smile dances on his lips, and Tonks can't help but start to relax.

"I did let my temper get the best of me, there, didn't I?" she says.

He nods. "Just a little."

She sighs. "And now I'm going to have to find some way to make it up to him, aren't I?"

"Probably. But I'll see if I can get him to make it up to you first. He was completely in the wrong, and he owes you an apology."

"So you'll try to talk some sense into him?"

"I'll do my best."

"Thanks." She leans against him, and the feeling of his arms around her lifts her spirits immediately.

"Those two are so absurd about each other," she mutters into his jumper. "They act like I have to be on either Sirius's side, or Severus's side. When really they ought to see that I'm on both of their sides. I'm on the Order's side. We need both of them to make the Order work, and both of them need friends to stand by them. Why can't Sirius see that?"

"Old habits die hard. And hating Severus is one of Sirius's oldest habits. Severus isn't much better about letting go of the past. The few times that I've tried to reach out to him, he's done his best to make it clear that he has no interest in anything I have to say to him beyond Order business."

"He does have a talent for snubbing people."

"How did you ever manage to win him over?"

She looks up and shrugs. "I'm not completely sure."

He takes her hand and leads her over to the sofa to sit down. "However you managed it, I'm glad you did. Severus's duties for the Order are of the utmost importance, and it's wrong of others in the Order to shun him the way they do. At the very least, he's done enough to earn our respect, if not our friendship."

Tonks nods. "That's exactly how I feel. Now if only we could find a way to pound it into Sirius's thick skull."

"Like I said, I'll do my best."

"If anyone can change his mind, it's you."

They lapse into a comfortable silence. Tonks can't help but think that this is how every frustrating day should end—happy and safe in Remus's arms.

* * *

_March_

As has become her habit the past few months, she works a night shift on the night of the full moon. And, as is usually the case, her shift is fairly uneventful; wizard-kind learned generations ago that staying in on the full moon night is the safest course of action. She comes home in the morning exhausted—not from hard work, but from worrying about Remus. She plans on lying in most of the day.

Her slumber doesn't last long. She awakens to the sound of someone calling her name. She tumbles out of bed and stumbles into her living room to see Sirius's head calling her from the floo.

The look on his face terrifies her. "What is it?" she says in alarm. "Is Remus alright?"

"He's at St. Mungo's. Molly took him in."

"Oh, sweet Merlin."

Sirius looks frightened. It's the first time she's seen him frightened. "He was listless and twitchy and irritable all night," he says, "but I couldn't very well ask him what was wrong when he was transformed. The change back was a lot rougher than usual—and then he started coughing up blood."

"Oh, my God! Why didn't you floo me right away?"

"He told me not to. He said he didn't want you to see him like that. That's why I called Molly in, and she took him to St. Mungo's. She said she would send word once they knew what was wrong, but it's been more than two hours and I still haven't heard anything."

"I'll go right away," she says. "I can be there in five minutes."

She doesn't wait for his reply before leaping to her feet and running to pull on yesterday's clothes. She doesn't even check her appearance before Apparating directly to the hospital and dashing inside. She gets directions at the reception desk and rushes to the ward where he is being treated. She bumps headlong into Molly on the way, and nearly knocks her over.

"Where is he? Is he alright?"

Molly gently grasps her shoulder to steady her. "He's going to be alright," she says. "They're fairly certain that something was wrong with his potion, and they're taking steps to heal the damage it's done. He's sleeping now. I was just going back to Headquarters to see if there was any of the potion left for the Healers to examine."

"I'll go," says Tonks.

"Don't you want to stay here with him?"

Tonks hesitates, looking at the door to the ward, and the rows of beds beyond. She shakes her head. "I can't just sit here, waiting. I have to _do_ something."

Molly nods. "I'll wait with him, then."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's no trouble at all."

Tonks rushes back to Grimmauld Place, and with Sirius's help she finds the vial that his potion came in. There is only a small residue left in the vial, but she hopes it will be enough to tell the healers what they need to know.

When she gets back to the hospital, she forces herself to finally enter the ward and make her way down the long row of beds to where Remus is lying, with Molly sitting in a chair beside him.

He looks pale, and his skin has a sickly greenish tinge to it. He is sleeping deeply, and doesn't react at all as the Healer standing over him casts some routine diagnostic charms.

"How is he?" she asks.

The Healer looks up from his patient. "He's showing good improvement. His pulse and breathing are strong, and our treatment appears to be working well."

Tonks takes a deep breath in relief. She pulls the vial out of her pocket and holds it out. "I found the vial that his Wolfsbane Potion was in. There's a little left in the bottom. Do you think it might help?"

He takes the vial, and nods. "It looks like there's enough here for our in-house Apothecaries to examine. If they can determine the exact nature of the defect in the potion, it could very likely help us speed up the healing process."

"Do it," she says.

The Healer glances down at Remus, and then back up at her. "You should know—we do have a good handle on his problems, and this analysis might only speed up his release by a half-day or so. This sort of work isn't part of the standard treatment, so it does involve a fee…"

"I'll pay it," says Tonks, gritting her teeth in resentment at the man's implication that Remus can't afford the fee.

The Healer nods. "Alright. I'll get this right down to the Apothecary."

Tonks thanks Molly for her help, and tells her that she can go home now. Molly gives Tonks a motherly hug and asks her to send an owl as soon as there's any news.

Once Molly has left, Tonks sits at Remus's bedside, and takes his hand. He feels so limp, and lifeless—nothing like the strong, witty, cheerful man that she is used to.

When the results from the analysis of the Wolfsbane Potion come back, the Healer decides to alter Remus's course of treatment and tells Tonks that the new treatment might have him ready for discharge by the morning, instead of keeping him one more whole day as they had originally predicted. She is glad that she was able to help, to but she suspects that the Healer is exaggerating her role in things to make her feel better.

A little over an hour later, Remus finally wakes up.

"Hello," she says softly, gripping his hand.

"Hello," he whispers back. "You aren't supposed to be here."

She glares at him. "I know. But fortunately, Sirius has better sense then you do."

He is quiet for a moment, and then looks into her eyes. "I'm glad you're here."

Later that evening, the Healer explains to them that the Wolfsbane potion had been brewed very poorly, and the effects of the poisonous aconite had not been sufficiently neutralized.

After the Healer leaves, Tonks asks Remus if he noticed anything wrong with the potion when he first started taking it four days before the full moon.

He sighs, and nods. "I was feeling a little off-colour all week, but I put it down to a head cold. I never thought it might be the potion."

"This is horrible! I thought you told me that your Apothecary was excellent—one of the best in London, you said."

Remus sighs again. "He is. But he also just raised all of his prices. He was charging significantly more than I was willing to pay, so I had to look elsewhere this month."

Her eyes narrow. "Where did you get it?"

"A little place on Knockturn Alley."

"Not _Stonehill's Fine Potions_?" she asks in dread.

He nods sheepishly.

"Remus! That place is horrible! The Ministry is constantly getting complaints about Stonehill selling tainted potions. I'm surprised the place hasn't been shut down by now. I know you've heard me complaining about it—I know you have!"

He nods again, his eyes downcast. "I have."

"Then why did you go there?"

He looks back up with a steely glint in his eyes. "It was all I could afford."

She takes a deep breath to control her frustration before answering. "Next month, we'll make sure you can afford better. Alright?"

"Alright," he says quietly.

He is nearly recovered in the morning, and she helps take him back to headquarters before leaving for work.

At her lunch break, she makes her way to a part of the Ministry that she has never been to before: Werewolf Support Services. The woman at the counter politely but firmly informs her that they've had complaints about tainted Wolfsbane potion from _Stonehill's _in the past and that the matter has been placed in the hands of the Potion Quality Control Committee, and there is nothing more that she can do about the matter.

Tonks forces herself to smile and thank the woman, despite her frustration. On the way out the door, she notices a rack full of pamphlets. Tonks did some reading on werewolves more than a year ago, not long after she and Remus became friends, but much of what she read liberally mixed myth and hearsay with fact. These pamphlets, on the other hand, appear to contain the plain facts about the condition laid out for werewolves and their families. She hesitates in front of the rack for a moment, and then takes one of each pamphlet.

She finds a quiet bench in a nearby park to sit and eat her sandwich, and she slowly flips through each of the pamphlets. When she reaches the pamphlet entitled: "The Effects of Werewolfism on Long-Term Health and Vitality," she loses her appetite.

She knows that the monthly transformations put a great deal of stress and strain on Remus's body—his prematurely gray hair is a testament to that. But she had no idea that his transformations would, as the pamphlet so bluntly states, "gradually but surely weaken a werewolf's heart, kidneys, and liver, drastically shortening the duration of his life." The average life-expectancy listed on the final leaf of the pamphlet nearly makes her own heart stop. It takes only a second's calculation to realize that Remus has already lived several years beyond the average of twenty-nine years after receiving the werewolf's bite.

She is in a daze for the rest of the afternoon, her head spinning with this new, unexpected, information. Why hasn't Remus told her? Does he still doubt her feelings? Does he think that this knowledge would make her rethink her commitment to him? For one brief sickening moment she allows doubt to flood her mind, but then she resolutely shakes it off.

She loves Remus, and in her heart she has committed to spending her life with him. All that this new information means is that the things that she has been thinking of as "someday," like marriage and children, will need to happen sooner rather than later. And getting Remus properly prepared potion is more important than ever. Who knows how many years it could add to his life?

When she sees Remus again later that evening, she says nothing. When he's ready—when he finally let's himself believe in this relationship as much as she does—he'll bring it up. And when he does, she can prove to him just how little it means to her, and just how much _he_ means to her.

Later that week she is pleased to avoid what she assumed was the inevitable argument about how to pay for his next supply of potion when Dumbledore tells Remus that Severus has agreed to begin brewing the Wolfsbane potion again. Tonks is a little surprised that Severus seems to have agreed to the arrangement without hesitation, considering how large a workload he is already carrying. She knows that this solution can't be to the liking of either man. So, she begins to formulate a plan.

Five days later she sits in The Three Broomsticks, wearing a long narrow face and graying brown hair. Several shopping bags sitting next to her make her look like any other of the many tourists visiting Hogsmeade today.

She sits at a back table for more than half an hour, scanning the latest Witch Weekly and sipping on a butterbeer. Finally, Severus walks in. He sits at the bar and orders a Firewhiskey. A few minutes pass before he starts to look around the room. She manages to catch his eye, and raises her glass to him in salute. He nods at her almost imperceptibly. He turns back to his drink. A few more minutes pass before he rises and slowly makes his way back to her table to join her.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he says.

She smiles. "Certainly. Have a seat."

He signals a barmaid and orders two beers. Finally, he turns to her and quietly says, "This is the first time I've seen you wearing a different face. It's somewhat disorienting."

"You asked me to be discreet," she replies in a low voice.

"I know. I suppose I simply didn't know what to expect. I can see now why you received top marks in Concealment and Disguise."

"Thank you."

Their beers arrive, and they both take a drink before speaking again. "So," he says, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected rendezvous?"

She takes a deep breath, and pauses for a moment before answering. "I need to ask you a favor."

He looks immediately suspicious. She knew he would—he's always suspicious. "What is it?" he asks.

Now's the time. She can't back down. "I want you to teach me how to brew Wolfsbane potion."

His face instantly tenses, his eyes narrowing with irritation. "My workload is already ridiculous, especially with that toad of an Inquisitor constantly looking over my shoulder. I don't have time to teach an out-of-practice Auror on top of everything else."

She expected this, and is ready to argue her case. "You don't have time _not_ to teach me."

He grips his glass with both hands. "Explain."

"The closer we get to open war, the busier you're going to get. You need to eliminate as many unnecessary tasks from your schedule as possible, and I'm sure you weren't exactly thrilled when Dumbledore added this potion to your list of assignments. The best way to get out of it is to find someone trustworthy to take your place. I'm volunteering."

"No."

"You know I'm capable."

"I know you _were_ capable, when you sat your NEWTs. I also know that Aurors do very little potion-brewing after their second year of training. You're hopelessly out of date."

"I can do this, Severus. I know I can. I won't get in your way. Just give me the recipe, and check me after I complete each step. You can do your own work at the same time."

He's quite for a moment. He is considering it. "I won't use up the school's store of ingredients for this."

"I'll bring my own."

He stares at her for another long, quiet minute. "Once a week. That's all I can manage."

"Once a week is perfect. I'll make my schedule work with yours."

He nods. "And I'll need a favor from you, in return."

"Name it."

"There are…" he pauses, considering his words carefully, "…certain parties that are doubtful about where my true loyalties lie. They believe that I am too well trusted by those I am purportedly betraying, and they are trying to undermine our Master's confidence in me."

Until he used the word "Master," she isn't entirely sure which group he is talking about.

"How can I help?" she asks.

"I need a few public shows of mistrust. On my next two or three trips to London you should follow me—just conspicuously enough to be noticed. Eventually we might want to include some sort of public confrontation."

"No problem. I can even follow you as more than one person, if you like."

"No. That would be a little too much. The appearance of a lone voice of dissent against me would be more effective. "

"I understand. I can do it."

"Good. I'll send you a copy of my schedule, an ingredients list, and a recipe. You need to start studying."

"I'll do it."

He stands, raising the tone of his voice slightly. "I have to get back to my duties now. It was very nice meeting you."

"Likewise," she says loudly. "Perhaps we can do this again sometime?"

"Perhaps. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she says in her loud tone, and adds, in a quiet voice, "Thank you."

He nods at her once last time, and walks out into the night.

* * *

_April_

Her first lesson with Severus goes as well as she could expect, but there is one surprise. While she is preparing the ingredients, Severus insists that she wear protective gloves and a Muggle-style surgical mask.

"The effects of Aconite poisoning are amplified in shape-shifters—that is why it is such a key ingredient in taming werewolves. But, although there are no documented reports of the effects of Aconite on Metamorphmagi, I have cause to believe that it would be considerably more harmful to you than to the average potion-brewer. You must exercise extreme caution when handling it. There can be no contact with your skin, and you should avoid inhaling the fumes directly. When it comes time to add the aconite during brewing, you must use a Bubble-Head Charm for at least ten minutes while it is being incorporated into the potion. If I see you being at all lax with these precautions, our lessons will end immediately. Have I made myself clear?" She is surprised by the fierceness of his warnings, and nods.

"Perfectly clear," she says. "I have no intention of putting myself, or anyone else, in danger. I'll take any precautions that are necessary."

"Good," he says, looking slightly relieved. "Now we can proceed."

A few days after the first lesson, all hell breaks loose. Umbridge discovers Harry's secret training group, and uses it to incriminate Dumbledore. Afterward, Dumbledore is forced to flee, and Umbridge is named Headmistress.

With Dumbledore in hiding, his contact with the Order is infrequent, and most of the daily operations are turned over to Remus. His schedule is so full that he begins to spend most of his time—and most of his nights—at Headquarters.

Tonks understands, but after so many months of sharing her bed with him, it's hard to start sleeping by herself again with no one but Mr. Fluffy for company.

The only advantage to Remus's new workload is that it gives her more time to practice the potion without his knowing. She isn't ready to tell him about it quite yet—she has the distinct feeling that he would disapprove.

She works out a cover for her potions lessons with Kingsley's help. He spreads word through the Auror department that her brewing-skills are sadly deficient, and publicly stages a conversation in which he recommends she seek out extra potions training, and recommends Severus.

When she arrives at Hogwarts for her next lesson, Umbridge intercepts her and Severus in the hall.

"Teachers have traditionally been allowed to entertain friends in their rooms after work-hours," says Severus to Umbridge. "Is this another policy you plan on changing, Headmistress?" His voice drips with disdain.

"Not at all," Umbridge replies in her high, sickly sweet voice. "I merely want to be certain that no unsavory influences are brought into the castle. We have to set a high moral example for our students."

Tonks scowls at the words "unsavory," and "moral." She steps forward. "If Aurors count as unsavory in your book, then who counts as savory?"

"I meant no offense, Miss Tonks," wheedles Umbridge. "I was merely trying to ascertain the nature of your…friendship…with Professor Snape."

Tonks scowls even deeper. "I'm a bit shaky on my potions, and need some brushing up. I'm paying him for lessons."

"Oh!" replies Umbridge, with a wicked glint in her eyes. "That's very admirable of you, Miss Tonks, to admit your failings and so readily seek to redress them. If only all public servants were willing to do the same. Go along then."

Tonks is barely able to restrain herself from spewing insults at the woman. She forces a twisted smile onto her face, and follows Severus to his office, knowing full well that Umbridge will be following up with her Ministry contacts to verify Tonks's cover, and glad that she is two steps ahead of the foul woman.

The lessons, and her first mission following Snape through Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, go well. She is confident that with another five or six weeks of practice she will be able to take over the brewing of the Wolfsbane potion.

Near the end of the month she and Remus are able to find their first quiet evening alone together since Dumbledore was forced into hiding. They are both so worn out by their hectic schedules that after dinner they have no energy for anything but to collapse into bed.

"I've missed this," she says, snuggling into his side.

"So have I. It's hard getting to sleep without you."

"I feel the same way."

"You should come to stay at Headquarters with me."

"I don't want to be in the way."

"You're never in the way."

She smiles. The past few weeks of minimal contact with him have been difficult. There are times when he's still so hard to read, and she can't help but wonder if his feelings for her have changed since the incident with the tainted potion. He's been more withdrawn, more reserved, ever since. But tonight helps reassure her that his feelings are the same that they've always been—it's only their schedules that have changed.

"I'd love to move in to Headquarters with you, but what about Mr. Fluffy? I don't want to agitate Sirius's allergies."

"To hell with Sirius. Bring Mr. Fluffy along. I miss you. I want you to be with me."

"Then I'll come."

"Good." He runs his fingers through her hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

_May_

Practicing her potion is the last thing on her mind as she stalks through the castle halls after Severus. As soon as they close his office door behind them, she spins to glare at him.

"Why the hell have you stopped your Occlumency lessons with Harry?"

His expression is scornful. "So, Potter's tattled to Black, has he?"

"You know how important these lessons are, Severus. How could you just drop them like this?"

He sneers. "Potter has no interest in learning Occlumency. Why should I waste my time with an unwilling student?"

"Because he needs it."

"What he _needs_ is to get off of his Gryffindor high horse for once, and learn to respect authority. He's an insubordinate, arrogant little slug who cares about nothing and no one but himself and his own little cadre of friends, just like his father."

She takes a deep breath. "It was wrong of him to intrude on your privacy like that. He had no right to look at your memories, but…"

Severus interrupts her, his eyes wide. "Did Black tell you what he did? Did he tell you what he saw?" He looks angry, and humiliated.

She shakes her head. "Not everything. I don't know the details, and I don't want to know the details. Harry was wrong—I know he was wrong. But giving up these lessons is just as wrong."

He frowns fiercely. "Ever since the first day he entered this school, he has acted like everything here is his own personal property. He struts around the castle like he thinks he's a king, and systematically violates every rule in his path. He enters forbidden rooms, runs free in the forest, damages school property, violates curfew, steals ingredients from my personal stores, and commits a whole litany of other infractions. The boy has no respect for anything but himself. He needs to learn that he is not the be all and end all of the Wizarding world. His petty desires do not trump respect for authority and common decency."

She's always listened to stories about Harry from the point of view of his friends, and she has laughed and marveled at the boy's exploits along with them. But hearing Severus's point of view makes her realize that there are two sides to every story—and Severus's opinion is just as valid as Ron's, or Ginny's, or Sirius's. But she's reluctant to give up her view of Harry as a sort of superhero. "He's just a kid, Severus. Go easy on him."

His face contorts into an expression of extreme loathing. "Would you be as inclined to _'Go easy on the kid' _if it was your private memories he was violating? If it was your humiliating secrets he was so casually prying into?"

She looks at the floor, feeling ashamed of the way she so readily jumped in to support Sirius and Remus in their criticisms of Severus back at Headquarters. He might be snide and self-centered, but he is also human, and has normal human feelings that can be hurt. She feels horribly disloyal for speaking ill of him.

"No, I wouldn't," she says. "But Dumbledore feels that these lessons are of vital importance. Are you sure you want to give up on them like this?"

"Potter doesn't want to close his mind to the Dark Lord. Instead of fearing their connection, he seems to think that it makes him special, and lets it puff him up with even more pride than he had to begin with. I will start teaching him Occlumency again if, and only if, he comes to me, apologizes for the liberties he's taken with me, and asks for my assistance. Until he has sufficient humility to take those steps of his own free will, then he will not learn anything from me, whether he comes to the lessons or not."

She tightens her lips, and looks down at the ground again. For three days Sirius has been ranting about Severus's actions, and Remus has also been stressing the importance of the Occlumency lessons. But now, hearing Severus's side of the story, she is beginning to understand. Harry spied on one of his private, very personal, memories, and has not made any move to apologize. She can't help but wonder if Severus is right—does Harry really consider anything on school grounds fair game for his personal use?

"If he does apologize—if he does ask for your help—do you promise to give it to him?"

Severus is still frowning, but he nods. "Yes. I will."

"Thank you."

He stares down at her for another minute before speaking again. "Start working on your potion. I have essays to grade."

They work in near silence for the next forty minutes.

Finally, she says. "I'm sorry for being so angry with you when I first got here. I should have been more willing to hear your side of the story."

He doesn't look up from his essays. "Apology accepted." They both continue their work in silence.

A week and a half later, their staged confrontation comes off without a hitch. She follows Severus on his next trip to Diagon Alley to purchase potions ingredients. A dumpy little woman whom he has pointed out as being a Death Eater toady is lurking in the doorway of a nearby shop when he makes his move to confront Tonks. They hurl accusations at each other for a few minutes in overly loud mock whispers, and Tonks ends the argument by saying, "You may have Dumbledore fooled, but you won't fool me! I'm keeping an eye on you, whether you like it or not!" and turning to stalk off.

Thirty minutes later they rendezvous in a Muggle pub several miles away. He joins her with a smile, and buys them both beers.

"So, did she buy it?" asks Tonks.

"Completely," he replies, taking a gulp of his beer. "She confronted me ten minutes after you left. She put on a high and mighty act, telling me how disappointed our Master would be to learn that I am losing the confidence of the Order. So I told her that he might be equally disappointed to hear that she's been doing Bellatrix's bidding rather than his, by spying on me. The look on her face was priceless." He chuckles and takes another gulp of his beer. She's never seen him look so exhilarated and happy—though she should have guessed that pulling off a scheme like this would be the best kind of fun for a Slytherin.

"So, do you think this will solve your problem?"

He nods. "I'm certain of it. I doubt it will change your dear Aunt's mind about me, but it will convince everyone else. You put on a masterful show."

"Thank you. Now finish your drink—we have a meeting to get to."

They are chatting amiably when they arrive at Headquarters together for the Order meeting. Sirius glares at them venomously, but she is surprised to see that Remus is also eyeing them askance.

After the meeting, Sirius storms out of the room, refusing to talk to her. She does her best to ignore him, and lets Mr. Fluffy out of his cage to hop around the drawing room while she tries to catch up on paperwork from the office and Remus reviews some reports from the Order's contacts abroad.

After a few minutes, she notices that Remus has stopped working, and is watching her. "What? What is it?" she says.

He already looks sheepish, and she thinks she knows what is coming.

"I was…surprised...when you and Severus came in together. I knew you were friendly, but I didn't realize that you were close enough to socialize outside of meetings."

She sighs. Sirius is having a bad influence on him. "Yes. We do occasionally see each other outside of meetings."

"Oh."

"Does that bother you?"

He shakes his head hastily. "No. No—not at all."

She rolls her eyes. "Clearly, it does. You don't care when I go out with Hestia and Emmeline. Why should you care when I go out with Severus? It's no different."

He looks even more sheepish. "But it is."

She raises her eyebrows, and says, "Because Hestia and Emmeline are women, and your friends, while Severus is neither?"

"Yes."

She stands, and walks over to him. "Do you trust me?"

"Completely."

She lowers herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"Then you shouldn't worry."

"I know. I'm sorry. I think I'm still upset over Severus cutting off the Occlumency lessons, and I'm taking it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." She leans in to give him a soft kiss.

After the kiss ends, she looks into his eyes, and says, "There's something I need to tell you, but I need you to promise not to get upset."

He smiles. "How can I promise that without knowing what you're going to say?"

"Just promise."

"Fine—I promise."

She takes a deep breath. "Severus has been teaching me to brew Wolfsbane potion."

He stares at her wide-eyed. "That…was not at all what I expected to hear. When did this start?"

"In March, after he agreed to start brewing your potion. I convinced him that he would be better off in the long run if he could teach me to brew it, so that he could stop worrying about brewing it himself."

Remus seems at a loss for words. She fills in the silence. "If you're serious about us having a future together, then you are going to have to let me be a part of this aspect of your life. You can't shut me out forever, you know."

"I know."

"It makes far more sense for one of us to learn how to brew it, then for us to have to keep relying on someone else to do it for us. And since I am by far the better potion maker, I decided to take matters into my own hands."

He nods. They are quiet for a minute, and he seems to be collecting his thoughts.

Finally, quietly, he says, "I don't want you to involve yourself in this part of my life, but I don't have a single rational reason why not."

She smiles gently. "And we decided that when we simply can't agree on something…"

"The person with the most rational argument wins," he finishes for her.

"Logic should always trump emotionalism—you said it yourself."

He nods glumly, and sighs. "I know." He is quiet for another moment, and then takes a deep breath. "So…when will you be ready to start brewing my potion?"

Her smile grows broader. "Well, Severus will still have to supervise me, but he thinks that I'm doing well enough to brew it for your next transformation."

He raises his eyebrows. "Already?"

"I'm a fast learner."

"Apparently. So…how are we going to do this?"

She pauses, looking down at her hand on his chest. "I don't expect to watch your transformation—hell, I don't _want_ to watch your transformation. I just want to be there when you drink your potion, to make sure there aren't any unexpected side-effects. And then I would like to be there again in the morning, after you change back."

He nods again. "Okay. I think I can live with that."

She bites her lip and smiles, looking back up at him. "You think so?"

"I do," he says, gently pushing her hair back from her face. He leans forward, and captures her lips in another deep, lingering kiss.

She begins to feel dizzy, and eager, but he pulls back with a serious look on his face.

"Did I do something wrong?" she blurts, without thinking.

"Of course not! Of course not. There's just…something that _I_ need to tell _you_. And I ought to tell you now, before you distract me too much." He is smiling again, so she thinks it can't be anything too serious.

"So, what is it?" She waits, holding her breath. Is he finally going to talk to her about his life-expectancy? Does he finally feel secure enough in their relationship to share this with her?

Instead, he says, "Dumbledore was here this morning."

She lets out her breath. "He was? Why didn't you tell everyone?"

"Because not everyone needed to know. He came to give me a new assignment."

His tone is light, but something uncomfortable stirs in the pit of her stomach. "What kind of assignment?"

Now he looks down. "There've been some troubling rumors. They're saying that Fenrir Greyback has thrown his support behind Voldemort."

She takes in a sharp breath, and her hand on his chest reflexively curls into a claw.

"So you've heard of him," says Remus.

"Of course I've heard of him." Greyback has been near the top of the Aurors' Most Wanted Criminals list for more than a decade.

"Then you know how dangerous he could be as a tool for Voldemort. Toward the end of the first war, Greyback and some other werewolves began working for him. I spent the last few months of the war underground, living among the other werewolves, trying to get close to Greyback's gang. I still have a few old contacts from those days, and Dumbledore wants me to talk to them. I need to see if they have any information that we can use."

He's never talked about his duties during the first war. Sirius once mentioned that Remus was gone on an extended mission for several months before the end—and that he had been so out of contact and remote from them that they began to mistrust him. But Sirius had been drunk, and getting drunker, so no more detailed information had been forthcoming. She'd never known that he knew any other werewolves, let alone that he had once lived among them. What must it have been like for him?

He's tense. Waiting for her reply.

"How long will you be gone?" she asks.

"No more than a week. I'll be back in time to start the new course of potion before my transformation."

His confidence sounds forced.

"Are you sure? Is that the end of it?"

"For now," he says, confirming her worst fears.

"Will you have to go back, like in the last war?"

He shakes his head. "I hope not. I hope we can get all the information that we need through my contacts."

"And if we don't? Will Dumbledore ask you to go back underground?" Her curled hand grips at his chest, clinging to him.

"He might. And if he does, I'll go. I'll do whatever I have to do to bring this war to a swift close. If this is the best way for me to serve, then I'll do it."

He must see the shock and fear in her eyes, because he pulls her tight into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, kissing her forehead and threading his fingers through her hair. "Don't worry," he whispers. "I probably won't have to go, so it's not worth your trouble getting worked up over it. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispers back, clinging to him all the tighter.

* * *

_June_

Tonks and Snape follow their usual pattern tonight. He grades student essays while she works on the potion. All of the steps of the complicated potion are going well. Ten minutes after adding the aconite, she removes the Bubble-Head charm, and breathes deep in relief.

"I hate that," that says.

"Is it really necessary to say so every single time you come here?"

She smiles at him. "I thought it was part of the recipe."

He lets out a short snort of laughter, and shakes his head, without raising his eyes from the pile of essays in front of him. She turns her attention back to the few remaining ingredients.

"Severus?"

"Yes?" he replies, still not looking up.

"I've been wondering something for quite a while now. All those months ago, at our first Order meeting together, why you decide to start hanging around with me?"

"Hanging around? I'll have you know that I do not _hang around _with anyone."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Why did you decide to start conversing with me, instead of the others?"

He scratches notes onto the essay in front of him with green ink. "I should have thought the reason was obvious."

"It's not," she says, chopping her dandelion roots finer.

"Have you ever taken a good look around the room at an Order meeting? Gryffindors, the lot of them."

"So you decided to talk to the lonely little Hufflepuff?"

"I was in a talkative mood, and you were preferable to the alternatives."

"Oh." The pace of her chopping falters. "So I was just the lesser of two evils?"

He finally looks up, and raises an eyebrow at her. "You sound disappointed."

She shrugs. "I just thought, maybe you'd approached me because we were both outsiders, and you wanted to help me feel welcome."

"You should know better by now than to ascribe altruistic motives to any of my actions."

Now she raises her eyebrows. "Should I?"

"Yes. I believe that there is no such thing as pure altruism. Behind every act of apparent altruism there will always be some deeper, more selfish, motive."

"You're so cynical."

"I'm not a cynic. I'm a realist."

She shakes her head and turns to add the roots to her cauldron. "I think we're going to have to agree to disagree on this point."

He picks up his quill, to return to his grading, and then pauses, and looks back up at her. "For what it's worth, you're the closest that I've found to a true altruist in many, many years."

"Coming from you, I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"Take it as a compliment, if it pleases you."

"Thank you, I will."

After a short pause, she asks, "So what was your deeper, more selfish motive for talking to me?"

He glances up at her with a smirk on his face. "I think I'll let you guess at that on your own."

She rolls her eyes. "You're an impossible man."

He only smiles, and turns back to his work.

Twenty minutes later, she presents him with a steaming goblet of completed Wolfsbane potion. He examines it, stirs it, smells it, and swirls it before finally pronouncing it a job well done. "I'll want to supervise your brewing for at least two more months, but after that you should be more than ready to brew it on your own. Excellent work, for someone so out of practice."

"Thank you, Severus. That's high praise."

"And well deserved. This should be more then adequate for Lupin's needs."

"Thank you," she says again. "Really—thank you. I know this was probably more trouble to you then it was worth, and it means a lot to me that you took the time."

He looks at her for a long moment before answering. "Perhaps I'm not such a bad friend after all."

"No. In fact, I'd say you're quite a good one. You just like to hide it under that snide and gloomy exterior of yours."

He chuckles. "Snide and gloomy?"

"Well, that's how you seemed to me at first. Now I know you're not really gloomy, but snide would still be an apt description."

He smiles and shakes his head. "Let's get this potion bottled up for you." They turn, and get back to work.

A few nights later, she sits with Remus after their dinner and watches as he chokes down his final dose of the potion. He hasn't talked much about the week he spent tracking down his old werewolf contacts, and she hasn't pried. He seems to have an increased air of tension around him, and when he thinks she isn't looking he gets a faraway, anxious expression on his face. She wants to believe that everything will work out, and everything is fine like he tells her, but her instincts tell her to worry.

His smile is half-grimace after he finishes the potion, and she slyly produces a box of chocolates from her bag.

"You're an angel," he says, taking the box, and quickly popping a chocolate into his mouth to mask the aftertaste of the potion. After he swallows and washes it down with some water, he says, "Perhaps you can start brainstorming how to make the potion itself more palatable."

"I'd love to, but Severus has only just barely approved my brewing under his supervision. I wouldn't dare start to tinker with ingredients for the sake of flavor quite yet—I could end up turning you into a toad."

"So you're not fond of toads?"

"They're not horrible, but I certainly wouldn't want to sleep with one."

"Point taken."

They snuggle and chat on the sofa for the next hour, and it is almost like old times again, except he keeps glancing at the clock. And before long, she starts glancing at the clock, too. Finally, he says, "I think it's time for me to head upstairs."

She nods, kisses him goodnight, and watches as he walks up the long staircase. She paces the drawing room for twenty minutes before tracking down Sirius in the library, where he's been hiding from them to give them their privacy.

They haven't been on the best of terms since that night she came into the meeting with Severus, but she thinks that Sirius has at least begun to forgive her for choosing to be friends with both of them.

"Do you think it's over yet?" she asks him.

He glances at the clock. "I'd give it another ten minutes, just to be safe."

She nods, and sits down across from him, nervously bouncing her leg. "When you think it's safe, will you go up and check on him for me? I don't think I can leave without knowing that he's alright."

"He'll be fine," says Sirius reassuringly. "If there's one thing Snivellus is good for, it's potions. He never would have let you feed something sub-standard to Remus."

"So, is that an admission that you're starting to trust him?"

"No. But if one of his most prized pupils accidentally poisoned her boyfriend under his supervision, it might sully his precious reputation. It's his pride that I trust—not him."

She smiles slightly, and shakes her head. "Some things never change, do they?"

"No, they don't."

Ten minutes later, Sirius heads upstairs to check that the transformation has gone on without complication.

She resumes her pacing at the foot of the stairs while she waits for him, and stares at him eagerly when she sees him bounding down the stairs, still in his dog-form. When he reaches the bottom he morphs back into his normal self, and smiles at her. "Everything went perfectly. It seems we have a new expert potions-maker in the house."

She grins, and catches him in a big hug. "Thank you so much, Sirius. I've been on pins and needles all evening. This is wonderful!"

He returns her hug, patting her on the back. "Yes. Yes it is," he replies.

She is startled to her a light clicking sound on the stairs above them, and she steps back from Sirius to look up to the first landing.

A large gray wolf stands there, looking down at them. An instinctive chill of fear surges through her, and her whole body tenses up before she can remind herself that it is Remus—she is safe.

The wolf slowly nods its head at her twice, and cautiously wags its tail before turning to gracefully make its way back up the stairs.

She slowly lets out the breath that she was holding, and turns back to look at Sirius, who is still staring in shock at the landing where the wolf was standing seconds earlier. "Wow," he says. "I didn't expect that. He must really love you, to let you see him like that."

She smiles, and lightly bites her lower lip. She is at a complete loss for words. "Wow," she finally says, echoing her cousin.

The next morning, she returns not long after dawn. Sirius is waiting for her in the kitchen.

"Everything went just fine," he says from the stove, where he is frying some eggs. "I got him tucked into bed already. He usually likes to lie in most of the day after a transformation."

"Should I go see him?"

"Absolutely. I've got some tea and toast ready for you to take up to him." He points to a tray sitting on the sideboard. "He won't have an appetite for much else until dinner time."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Do you want some eggs?"

"No, thanks. I'll just share Remus's toast."

"Suit yourself."

She levitates the tray up the stairs with her, and knocks softly on Remus's room before entering. He is lying in bed, and looks up at her with a weary smile.

"Good morning," she says. "I have tea and toast for you."

"Good morning," he replies. "Thank you." He blinks his eyes sleepily. He looks pale and slightly haggard, but otherwise appears to be in good health.

She sets the tray down on his nightstand, and pours him his cup of tea. She helps him sit up, and stuffs pillows behind him to prop him comfortably while he drinks. He takes a few sips of his tea, and a half-hearted nibble of his toast. He sets them back down on the tray with a sigh, and looks back up at her.

"You shouldn't have to do this every month," he says quietly.

"It's no bother, really," she replies. "I rather like being able to pamper you once in while."

He looks down, and shakes his head. "You deserve better than this."

"So do you." She gives him a serious look.

"But I don't have a choice in the matter. You do."

She sits next to him on the bed, and lays a hand on his chest. "I've made my choice. I choose to love you. And if this is part of what comes along with loving you, then I'm more than willing to take it on."

He lays his own hand over hers. "If this is really going to last…If we're really going to try to build a life together, then there's something you need to know."

She studies his face intently. "What is it?"

He takes a deep breath, and looks down at their hands. "We won't have very much time. Not nearly as much time as you deserve."

It's finally come. He's finally ready to share this last secret with her. "I know," she says.

"You know? You mean…you know about…"

"Werewolf life expectancies," she finishes for him. "Yes, I know. After you bought that tainted potion I stopped by Werewolf Support Services, to see if there was any legal recourse we could take. And naturally there wasn't. But they did have several pamphlets that caught my eye."

He nods, knowingly. "Ah, yes. The pamphlets."

"I'm sure you've read them all."

"Dozens of times. And now you've read them all."

"Dozens of times," she echoes, with a smile.

He looks down at their hands again, squeezing hers tightly. "So you know that the average life-span for a werewolf is only twenty-nine years beyond the year that they receive their bite."

"Yes."

"And I've now lived three years longer than that average."

"I know," she says. "And I also know that the longest recorded life-span for a werewolf without the aide of Wolfsbane Potion was forty-seven years after his bite. And the potion hasn't been in wide-spread use for long enough to gauge what effect it might have on increasing that expected life-span. We could have two, maybe even three, decades together to look forward to."

"But what if we don't? And even two decades doesn't seem like enough. You'd just be in your forties!"

She shakes her head. "I don't care, Remus. I don't care. I'll take whatever time I can get, and be happy with it. I love you. That's all that matters."

He circles his arms around her and pulls her into a tight embrace. "I love you so much," he whispers.

"I know."

* * *

Five days later, she lies in a bed in St. Mungo's hospital, staring at the ceiling, knowing that Sirius is dead and the whole world has changed. Remus is clinging to her hand like it is the only thing keeping him from drowning. He is not quite so pale now as he was when she first woke up, when he told her in a shaking voice that Sirius was gone. He held her while she cried, and it wasn't until she was beginning to calm down that a few tears leaked out of his own eyes and he said, "For a few minutes, I thought I'd lost both of you. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost both of you." A few hours later Dumbledore comes to wish her well, and offer his condolences. And then he takes Remus away.

She refuses to take the sleeping draught recommended by her Healer, and she lies awake most of the night. In the morning her parents collect her and take her to their home for another day of recuperation. She wishes it were Remus, instead, but he's been sent back to get more information from his werewolf contacts. Dumbledore has given him no time to grieve.

He's given none of them time—except for her. And time is the last thing she wants. She wants to be working. She wants to be fighting. But instead, she's cut off from the Order, forced into isolation with nothing but her thoughts. She reviews the fight in her mind over and over again. She wonders what she could have done differently. What counter-curse could she have cast—what hex could she have thrown—that would have stopped Bellatrix? That could have saved Sirius?

At last, Remus sends her word that he is back from his assignment, and she rushes to their flat to meet him. They do not talk much that night.

The next afternoon they go with Arthur, Molly, Mad-Eye, and the twins to greet Harry at the train station and give his rotten guardians a piece of their minds. Their presence seems to cheer Harry, and this gives Tonks a degree of comfort. But she knows in her heart that nothing they can do right now will fully ease his pain.

That evening, miraculously, both Tonks and Remus have no obligations. Neither of them feels like staying in, so they go on a long walk in a park, and sit on a hill to watch the sunset.

For the first time since the hospital, Remus talks about Sirius. He starts with the good memories, but it doesn't take long to move on to the regrets. She tries to reassure and support him, and gradually the self-accusations subside, but his guilt and frustration are palpable.

"Please, Remus," she says finally, gently rubbing his back, "let's stop doing this—at least for tonight. You feel guilty—I feel guilty. We all feel guilty. Talking about it endlessly won't make us feel any less guilty. This might be our last quiet night alone together for a long time. Please—let's just let it go for tonight, and try to enjoy this time as much as we can. Please? For my sake?"

He nods. "I'm sorry."

He wraps an arm around her, and she lies her head on his shoulder. As they sit quietly holding each other, her mind flits back to the conversation she had with Cleo Lupin months ago, about drifting. She had been certain at the time that—like Mrs. Lupin thought—she was the anchor giving Remus the stability that he needed. But now, after listening to him, she wonders if perhaps she wasn't the anchor after all. Perhaps it was Sirius all along. And she wonders if now that he is gone, will Remus start to drift away from her?

She closes her eyes tightly, trying to block out the thought. Some things just aren't worth thinking.

As they fear, two days later Dumbledore calls Remus away again. Before he leaves he asks Tonks to check in on his mother. "I told her about the war, and about re-joining the Order. She's not taking it well. I think she could really use the company, if you can spare the time."

"Of course I can!" she replies. "I'll make sure to stop by, as soon as I can."

Remus thanks her, and gives her a long farewell kiss before Apparating away. She stands for a few minutes, staring at the place where he was just standing. Lately, every time they say goodbye it has an increasing air of finality to it—like one of these days, he won't come back at all. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breathes to clear her head. She can't think of these things. She _won't_ think of these things.

She manages to find a break in her hectic schedule the very next day, and she Apparates to Mrs. Lupin's front step. When she opens the door, the older woman eagerly embraces Tonks and invites her in. The whole house is faintly hazy from cigarette smoke, and Mrs. Lupin seems to go through half a pack in the short hour that they visit.

She shakes her head at Tonks's reassurances, and brings her cigarette to her mouth with a trembling hand. Finally, she breaks in to Tonks's speech about having the enemy on the run, and keeping them on the defensive.

"Is Albus sending him back to those creatures?"

"What?" Tonks blinks in surprise.

"The other werewolves. That's where Albus sent him last time, and it was almost the end of him. He came back feeling less than human. He came back feeling like a pariah—an animal. And after that night when he lost all his friends…He went into his room and wouldn't come out again. I managed to get him to start eating on the third day, but it took a whole week to get him back out of the room. And it took more than a month to get him out of the house. He's never been completely the same. Never. Albus can't do that to him again."

A chill runs down Tonks's spine, but she takes a deep breath and answers. "We won't let that happen. We won't let that happen to him again. I promise." She reaches out to take Mrs. Lupin's hand.

They sit in silence for several minutes, holding hands. Mrs. Lupin's eyes are sparkling with moisture, but tears never escape.

Finally, she sniffs, and says, "What happened to your hair?"

Tonks reflexively raises her free hand to her limp brown locks. "Oh, this? I just…I was injured, a week ago. I can still change it, but it takes more concentration then it used to, to maintain a look. The Healers tell me it's just an after-effect of the trauma, and I should be back to normal in another week or two."

Mrs. Lupin nods slowly, looking away. "He's dragged you into this fight, too? Hasn't he? Just like he did with James, and Lily, and Peter and Sirius."

"He didn't drag me into anything. This fight is my job. It's what I signed up for."

Mrs. Lupin looks her right in the eye. "No one signs up for this. Not really."

Tonks doesn't know how to respond.

Mrs. Lupin looks away, and takes another drag on her cigarette. "God help you. God help us all."

Tonks says nothing. She merely sits, and watches the smoke drift away.

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate everyone who keeps coming back for my stories time and time again. You guys are wonderful.


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